


The Great Royal Rumble

by TheGreatSaiyaZ (TheAmazingSpiderZ)



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Princess Diaries Fusion, Alternate Universe-Universe Alterations, Dragon Ball Z - Freeform, Gen, Gohan Deserves Better 2k19, Gohan-centric, Interspecies Relationship(s), It's Not Technically an AU if Chi-Chi's Actually a Princess, Make Saiyans more Alien 2k19, More Alien Saiyans, Nerd Son Gohan, The Great Saiyaman - Freeform, The Princess Diaries AU every fandom needs, This is the Shame Basket
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-29 16:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20085274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAmazingSpiderZ/pseuds/TheGreatSaiyaZ
Summary: Being a teenager is hard.  So is being a a half-alien superhero.  Being a superhero half-alien teenager who also happens to be royalty?  Well that's just about impossible.(Or: The Sons get introduced to the world of human Royalty.  Hilarity Ensues)





	1. The Beginning

Son Gohan liked to consider himself a fairly unflappable guy. He was, after all, the coolest teenage Superhero this side of the galaxy,  _ very _ technically a kind-of, sort-of former child soldier,  _ and _ he’d survived being abducted by Aliens (because yes, in his humble opinion, that one kidnapping counted, even if  _ technically _ the alien in question was his long-lost evil uncle) and all before the age of eighteen. 

Logically speaking, it was therefore highly implausible that that he should be flappable, but the elegant looking lady in the type of fancy outfit his mom only pulled out of the closet on the once in a blue moon occasions she needed to go do Actual Princess Things from which Gohan and Goten and his father had long since been barred from going, for much the same reason Bulma never brought Vegeta or Trunks to fancy Capsule Corp functions, because the human members of their family had come to the probably-not-incorrect conclusion that it would be for the best if the more. Eccentric. Members of their clan stayed out of public events where the possibility of presenting irrefutable proof that capital-A aliens actually did exist (as opposed to the conspiracy theories that littered the internet since-well, technically basically forever, but which had definitely increased in number and accuracy after that pesky little attempted invasion oh-so-long-ago) left him  _ very  _ flapped, if only because Gohan had never seen before in his  _ life _ , and somehow she was  _ here,  _ in his actual  _ house,  _ which was only kind-of-purposefully built to be as  _ far from human civilization as possible for a reason.  _

So Gohan did the only reasonable thing. He squeaked and tripped back out of the house and slid to a heap beside the pile of logs that were forever-present in front of the house, even though they had no actual fireplace to speak of. 

Alas, his brief reprieve lasted but a moment before the door swung back open and Gohan froze, turning his head upwards to face the technically-not-actually-imposing-but-actually-very-imposing figure of the strange lady who was somehow  _ in his house _ . The strange lady pursed her lips and frowned at him disapprovingly, which made him shrink in on himself momentarily before the rush of realization slammed into him like the force of a fully powered  _ ki _ blast. 

_ Huh,  _ he thought, looking at the scary woman with wide eyes,  _ she looks kind of like Mom.  _ Actually  _ no _ , that wasn’t quite right, the woman looked like his mother the way he looked like Dad, almost, as if someone had transposed all of somebody onto a different person and then decided to hit the edit button, the sort of sucker-punch kind of resemblance that left little doubt as to relation that Gohan rarely saw in other people other than him and his brother and their father, and maybe Vegeta and Trunks.

Gohan opened his mouth to speak, to say something to the funhouse-mirror version of his mother, but the words shriveled up in his throat under the force of her steely glare and all that escaped was a sort of high pitched whimper that made Gohan go red in embarrassment. 

“Chi,” the woman drawled, “What on Earth is  _ that. _ ” The weight of the strange woman’s disapproval hung in the air as she continued to stare, analyzing Gohan with the same sort of distant horrified fascination that children had when looking at particularly ugly bugs, or how Frieza looked at Saiyans, and caused a hot flush of humiliation to run through him as the awkward moment of eye contact persisted. 

  


* * *

  


Jiang Mei felt her lip curl in blatant disapproval as she stared at the …  _ thing  _ sprawled on the ground in front of her. It had been  _ such _ a trial to even get here in the first place, seeing as her estranged half-sister had, for  _ some _ godforsaken reason, decided to move to the  _ literal middle of nowhere _ on a mountain that was remote even by the standards of the Ox King, and  _ now _ , just as she managed to wrangle a _ very _ reluctant Chi into a conversation, they were _ interrupted  _ by the strangest creature she’d ever seen bursting through the door like it owned the place, only to run away the moment it laid eyes on them, and well, no one had ever called Jiang Mei a coward, so she followed, ignoring whatever drivel her sister was saying because really, there was no way Chi didn’t know what was going on, not when she had all the intelligence and determination of the Jiang clan running through her veins.

It really  _ was  _ an odd little thing, Mei mused, all long limbs and black fur and strangely humanoid, scrawny and gangly enough that it seemed not-quite grown. It was, perhaps, some poor mutated monkey Chi had taken pity on, peculiar mishmash of features that it was, and curiously enough, fully dressed in an outfit that while terribly unfashionable, wouldn’t look out of place on a teenage boy.

But then Jiang Mei made the mistake of looking at the  _ thing _ in the frankly horrendous amalgamation of features that was its _ face _ , and her breath caught in her throat.

Because while the thing was clearly unnatural, with uncannily dark eyes and jutting jaws and a not-quite muzzle, it was- _ familiar _ . The color was all wrong of course, but those uncanny eyes were eerily similar to her sisters, to her  _ own, _ to the rest of her kin. Those were undeniably the eyes of a Jiang, muddled as they might have been by whatever inhuman blood ran through its veins, and that meant that her sister had some  _ explaining _ to do.

Mei stared at the creature even as she spoke, voice perfectly controlled as was suitable for a princess of the Jiang Clan, even as her eyes hardened and her mind roiled. 

Chi was hiding something, and that was made only more evident when she strode out of the house and  _ ignored _ Mei, choosing instead to fuss over the freak of nature sprawled on the grass. 

“Gohan, what are you  _ doing _ here? I thought you were at Capsule Corp with Goku and Goten all day.” 

“I  _ was _ , I kind of decided to sneak out to, uh, hang with Videl instead, until like, twenty minutes ago? And I decided to come back here instead of enduring everyone teasing me about it, but, uh, then there was the stranger in the house and I’ve never seen a stranger all the way up here, so I panicked I guess. Sorry.” The creature-Gohan?-said sheepishly, in a surprisingly pleasant tenor that was almost completely at odds with the...  _ disaster _ that was the rest of him.

“ _ Chi _ ,” Mei snapped. Chi turned back to face her, eyes as steely as her own as their eyes met. The creature- _ Gohan _ hovered anxiously behind Chi, all six-feet-and-something of him and doing a frankly _ terrible  _ job of hiding. 

“Mei,” Chi said, “This is Gohan-he’s my eldest. Gohan, sweetheart, this is Mei. She’s-well, we have the same mother, so _ technically _ she’s my older sister.” The tone of her voice made it  _ very  _ clear as to Chi’s opinion of the matter, as if being a part of an _ eternal dynasty _ were a greater shame that having a _ beast _ for a  _ son _ . Then again, Chi was the product of a  _ regrettable _ political marriage between their esteemed mother and the savage Ox King, so perhaps her unfortunate bloodline clouded her mind. Still, she  _ was _ family.

“Chi,” Mei paused as she struggled to find the best way to word this, “I’m very sorry, but your so-called  _ son _ is a monkey.” It was, perhaps, not the  _ most tactful _ way to phrase it, but Mei had her limits, and she’d reached it _ long _ before her sister told her that the awkward creature that gatecrashed their reunion was apparently her  _ nephew. _

The effect was immediate-Chi swelled in indignant fury, and Gohan shrank back momentarily before rising back up to his not-inconsiderate height.

“How _ dare you-that is MY SON,  _ you can’t-”

“Mom!” Gohan cuts in, tugging gently at his mother's sleeve. “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s an honest mistake, even you guys thought dad was some weird kind of monkey before the-uh. The  _ thing _ .” Gohan finishes surreptitiously, eyeing her like he is suddenly  _ very _ aware that she’s still there, and he almost said something he _ really _ shouldn’t have. 

It was suspicious, to say the least, and clarified exactly nothing except for perhaps confirming that the mutation came from the mysterious father. Which-_honestly-_ what on _Earth_ did Chi _marry?_

_   
_

* * *

_   
_

_ Sister??  _ His mother had a  _ sister? _ And a rather Rude one to boot (well, to be fair Gohan was a bit. Odd looking but that didn’t make it sting any  _ less _ )- although now that he thought about it, perhaps that was why he’d never even heard of her before literally. Right Now.

Still,  _ why now _ ? Mother and Father had been married almost two decades by now, and as far as he knew, this was the first time anyone other than Grandfather (and did Grandfather  _ know  _ about this? Probably if this was his-what, step-daughter?  _ How did Grandfather even  _ have _ a stepdaughter, wasn’t Grandmother  _ dead) had shown up from Mother’s side of the family.

Then again, Mother had always gotten - titchy- when they spent too much time with  _ normal _ humans, the reason he’d never been allowed to go to school until he mastered the mimicry trick Father had picked up as a kid, the one that Vegeta said was evolved to allow Saiyans to better blend in with the local populace of whatever planet they were terrorizing, but which was  _ also _ very good for blending in purposes and not letting the alien cat-monkey out of the bag, for all that Gohan was the only one who could manage it for more than six hours straight, and that Vegeta deemed it below him, and that Father had enough of a reputation to render the trick useless, and that Trunks and Goten were too little to care and- okay, so  _ maybe _ Gohan was the only one who even remotely bothered with it, but he was also the only one who interacted with Real People on the regular, so it was  _ fine. _

Even _ if  _ today, he’d forgotten, because the only even kind-of-normal human he’d hung out with was  _ Videl _ , who’d seen him at his worst that day at the tournament and hadn’t even faltered. 

And  _ now _ , now he was paying the price, because his ... _ aunt _ … had seen, and was  _ staring _ at him with the same distaste that haunted his memories of Raditz, even if she was perhaps the most diametrically opposed anyone could be to Raditz, with her stuffy clothes and icy poise.

Okay, so, judgement. Gohan was (nearly) a grown-ass man, he could deal with a little  _ judgement. _ It wasn’t like he was a cry-baby four year old anymore, he’d fought  _ monsters _ , and  _ Aliens _ , and  _ monster-aliens _ ,  _ and _ he was even an _ official  _ Superhero now.

So no, actually, Gohan wouldn’t bow under the weight of a little judgement (even _ if  _ his aunt glared the  _ exact same way  _ his mom did, which. Was not great for his self confidence, and  _ maybe _ Krillen had a point when he said he really needed to grow a spine when he _ wasn’t _ trying to stop an apocalypse or fighting aliens) no matter how much he  _ really  _ wanted to. 

Besides, it was probably too late to go properly human-form anyway because explaining how he _got _from weird mutated monkey thing to a maybe kind of funny-looking but mostly-ish normal person was. Not The Best. Mostly because the actual explanation was some bullshitty ‘evolution, I guess’ that was probably tied into the general weird transformation-but-decidedly-not-actual-shapeshifting abilities Saiyans had that were kind of impossible to describe without using the _A-word_. A mutant monkey person was one thing, especially with Dr. Gero and his Mad-Scientist experiments (if he could make _frigging_ _Cell_ and the androids, he could totally (presumably?) make mutated animal-people), a mutant monkey person with weird not-quite-shapeshifting abilities was another. That way led _trouble_.

So Gohan was stuck hovering awkwardly behind his mother, very obviously not-quite human (and how his father had managed his entire life without ever realizing he was an alien was a mystery to him) as he did his best to turn invisible .

It did not stop his aunt from looking at him funny, but it was better than being screamed at for witchcraft or whatever nonsense Real People liked to use to justify his family’s eccentricities, so he would take what he could get, at this point. 

Then, she spoke, serious and grave, and focusing pointedly on Chi-Chi.

“Grandfather is  _ dead _ .”

His mother frowned, brows furrowing in an expression Gohan would term as somewhere between disgruntled and bitter, and what Goten would call ‘smad’, before she replied, surprisingly snappish.

“This has  _ nothing _ to do with me.”

“It is tradition, and you  _ must _ .”

Standing toe to toe and glaring, the resemblance would be even more uncanny, if it weren’t for the minor factor that Gohan had _ absolutely no idea what was going on. _

Chi-Chi and Mei obviously did, though, because they  _ continued _ to speak in not-riddles but not-exactly-complete sentences as if they  _ weren’t _ leaving out huge chunks and speaking in some weird almost-code.

Whatever it was they  _ were  _ talking about, his mother was clearly Not Happy, and she was the specific variant of Not Happy that Gohan associated with Official Princess Duties, rare as they were -because Real People, especially Royalty, did not much like talking to a warlord, even if he was Reformed and also Royalty, and also because his mother preferred to stay away from Politics as much as possible.

This made sense, technically. Grandpa was unconventional royalty, but he was still royalty, so therefore it wasn’t improbable that he had  _ married  _ royalty, and thus, made whatever fuss his mother and Jiang Mei were raising over his. Great Grandfather? Or something. More likely than not also royalty related.

However, this did not make sense in practice, because Mother, while reluctant to actually allow Gohan to accompany her on Official Princess Business, made it a point to explain the technical details behind it to him, because Gohan was the oldest and therefore technically not only a prince, but a Crown Prince, which meant that it was going to be his business _ eventually _ , and also because Gohan had, as the human members of his extended not-blood-family-but-family-in-every-way-that-matters said, the closest thing to Common Sense and Reasoning abilities of anybody of Saiyan blood (he did not, sadly, have actual Common Sense, but it was still the most of anybody, and so he would take it).

Therefore, logically speaking, this meant that Mother should have mentioned Aunts and Great-Grandfathers before, at least in passing, instead of letting everyone assume they were dead, but she had Not, which meant there were twisty Reasons and Secrets for keeping it to herself all this time. Maybe Mother was trying to pretend they were dead, or at least Out of Her Life, and decided that the best way to accomplish this was to never mention them ever, except now her sister had come to haunt her-and really, Gohan was still fuzzy over  _ how  _ she got to their house in the middle of Nowhere.

Twisting his hands together, Gohan continued to ruminate over potential plots and secret family members, except now his aunt was looking at him  _ again _ , even if it was more regular critical than flat Disapproval, which was worse because it was Weird and Unusual, and now she was _ talking _ . To  _ him _ . 

“Well then, get on with it,” she said, as if that was supposed to Make Sense.

Get on with  _ what _ exactly? Saiyaman? Super-Saiyan? Except he kept those last two bits in his head because he was no fool, no sir, and that was just _ inviting  _ trouble.

“That  _ thing _ Chi says you do,” her nose crinkles in what is best termed as disbelief, “The one that allows you to pass as something even vaguely resembling a presentable member of humanity.” Oh.  _ That _ thing. The mimicry trick. That Chi-Chi had very much  _ not _ mentioned earlier, because even while Gohan had been going off into only slightly panicky tangents in his head about that  _ very same thing _ , he had been Listening, because his ears were Very Big and good at picking up Secrets and other Dangerous Noises and he was fairly sure that nobody had ever brought it up  _ at all, _ which only brought their weird code into even  _ more _ question.

But. Chi-Chi had stepped away and was giving him a Look, so apparently there  _ had _ been some type of conversation occurring between the cut-off sentences and pregnant pauses. So. This was fine. If Mom said it was fine, then she had Reasons, even if they  _ were _ twisty and related to her Secrets.

Gohan straightened-properly this time- and _ Focused _ . The mimicry trick was the first transformation he’d ever accessed (ignoring that One Time with the moon) and accessing it was easy as breathing, now. Bones snapped and joints cracked as his skeleton rearranged into an approximation of human proportions, a curious sensation of not-quite pain that prickled where Super Saiyan  _ burned _ . 

One breath, and then the next, and Gohan was as close to human as he got, fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to scratch at the itch of fur receding.

Still, Mei stared, scrutinizing him with an entirely different type of calculation than earlier. There was a long moment of Silence where the urge to flee was almost overwhelming, but then she spoke, resting a delicate hand on her chin, and it was Over.

“I suppose this is... _ adequate _ . Old Ye will have his work cut out for him, of course, but at least like this there’s something to work  _ off _ .”

That...explained absolutely Nothing. In fact, it explained worse than Nothing, because  _ now _ he was wondering who the hell Old Ye or whoever Was. 

“Uh, what-what exactly is...going on?” Please, he needed Answers. This was the most confused he’s been since, well, only since the first day of highschool, but to his credit Teenagers were Strange and Confusing. Unfortunately for Gohan, instead of answering his aunt just Looked at his mother in disapproval.

Or he could be ignored, that was fine too.

“You never  _ told _ him?!” Oh wow, that almost sounded like actual emotion. Also, Told him  _ what _ ? There was a klaxon screaming he was Missing Something in his head, and Gohan had to say, it was Not Fun.

“Gohan knows about Father!” Chi-Chi says, pausing. “I didn’t think it was  _ necessary _ to tell anybody about my sordid past, not when I left it behind for good.” She sniffs, glaring at Mei. “I _ still  _ don’t know how exactly you managed to find me all the way up here.”

“Tch. Perhaps if you hadn’t  _ left _ , you would understand the resources our clan has at its disposal.

“Gohan,” his aunt says, wrinkling her nose like his name leaves a bad taste in her mouth, which, Rude, but okay, “Your Grandmother, and by extension, your mother and myself, are members of the direct line of the Jiang Clan.” And. That’s it. Nothing else. As if. The Jiang Clan is Important enough for him to obviously Understand what she means. It is not. And maybe there’s just  _ enough _ of a niggle that makes Gohan think he should have paid more attention in History-but he has the highest grade out of anyone in the class regardless, and anyway he’s planning on being a Scientist, which absolutely does not require knowledge of...whoever Mom’s family is.

Jiang Mei, however, doesn’t seem to appreciate his mental fumbling. “The Ruling Dynasty of Shenzhou?” The...country? That makes. A certain degree of sense, and aligns with his earlier hypothesis to boot. What it has to do with  _ him  _ specifically, however, he has no clue. So he’s a prince, kind of? That is. Not news to him, no matter how many people prefer to ignore the King part of the Ox King’s name. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s been involved in Royal Business, most of which occurred Pre-Invasion and therefore consisted mostly of him clinging to his parents.

“So… what?” Evidently, that is not the right thing to say, because Jiang Mei looks even more frustrated than earlier-no small feat.

“So, despite your  _ unfortunate  _ affliction, you are nonetheless,  _ also _ a member of our esteemed clan, and as a result,  _ royalty. _ ”

“Oh, no, I got  _ that.  _ I just don’t get what it has to do with  _ me _ . I mean, Grandpa’s been royalty since forever and we...still live here? So I don’t see why this is any different?” This was all very true, and had the benefit of being delivered in an almost confident manner. Gohan preened. 

He stopped preening approximately ten seconds later, when it was made clear that his nonchalant dismissal of Even More Royal-ness was. Not the Correct Response, if the sudden flush of anger on Miss Mei’s face was anything to go by.

“It is the Jiang clan’s  _ duty, _ ” she began, speaking with a deliberate sort of slowness, “To follow tradition, respect the hierarchy, and to rule Shenzhou with divine right. Chi flouted millennia of tradition  _ once _ , when she took advantage of her father’s bloodline to run away like a despicable  _ coward _ . To allow her to do so  _ again _ , on the eve of Grandfather’s death it-well. It would be unthinkable.” That was a Lot of very fancy words, which, unfortunately, made only the barest of sense to Gohan. Or, well, he  _ got _ that apparently the Jiang Clan was A Big Deal, yadda-yadda, but. He wasn’t any clearer on how  _ he _ exactly was involved in all this beyond being Chi-Chi’s son.

Evidently, his confusion was painfully obvious on his face, because Miss Mei got the same kind of pinched look on her face the people he saved as Saiyaman got after performing one of his Brilliant dance routines, like somehow he was managing to gouge their eyes out or something without ever doing anything at all. It was as baffling now as it was then-Gohan  _ had _ been paying attention, really, it wasn’t  _ his  _ fault he was missing the necessary Backstory to Understand whatever Twisty Royal Politics Miss Mei clearly hoped that he would.

“Grandfather was the ruling Emperor of Shenzhou, commanding over the rest of the Imperial Kings, who in turn commanded the Imperial Court, who in turn controlled the common people. For him to die  _ before  _ he officially named a proper heir-it throws the entire system into upheaval. The entire structure of the clan is in jeopardy; the Kings and Queens are all gunning for Emperor, the Court are gunning to become Kings, and the rest of the lower nobles are trying to squeeze into a position at Court.

“In any case, the time to choose a new Emperor has begun, and as members of the direct line, it is our sacred  _ duty _ to return to the homeland and assist our kin in securing our position in the clan.” Okay, that makes a moderate amount of sense, maybe. Lots of Royal Politics, as Gohan suspected. He’s still a little fuzzy on the details, but from what he’s gathered, everyone on Mother’s mother’s side of the family is about to duke it out for an even More Royal Position.

Thankfully, his Mom is still there, and has had plenty of practice dealing with thick-headed aliens.

“What she  _ means _ is that  _ Mother, _ ” and wow she spits out that word the same way Vegeta says Frieza, “Is making a play for Empress, and she expects us to act as figureheads to garner more political support.”

“Yes, well,” Miss Mei sniffs, as if Mom were acting completely unreasonable, “She did manage to marry two different kings and extract herself quite neatly from each one for a reason, you know. A pity you’re the only one of the Ox King’s line, although I suppose your…  _ children _ will have to do.” Oh that. Sounded the opposite of Good. That sounded Very Much like _ Gohan  _ was going to get Involved in Twisty Royal Politics. Which was, frankly, Ridiculous. His current extent of Political Knowledge was almost entirely hypothetical, and it was supposed to  _ stay _ hypothetical until After College, by which point he would be slowly introduced to the reality of Royal Politics until the time came that he was Ready to succeed the throne  _ after  _ Grandpa and Mom retired.

This was-this was unprecedented, and Gohan did not Like this At All. He was still in highschool, and just barely figuring out Real People. He was, in fact, the opposite of Ready, but judging by the steely expressions on both his mother and Miss Mei, he didn’t exactly have a Choice in the manner.

There were several seconds of tense silence, before Chi-Chi slumped, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Gohan,” she said tersely, “Go and get your father and your brother. We need to  _ talk _ .”


	2. Delicate Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mei meets the rest of the Sons. Awkwardness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rolls up seven months later with Starbucks* So it turns out that writing requires actual Effort. Yeah sorry, I could blame starting college, but I'm just Bad at writing. So, uh. Here's chapter two, which is sadly more exposition-introduction stuff and not the hopeful shenanigans because apparently writing's a process, who knew. Hopefully the next chapter will come out in uh, not over half a year.

A stone sunk deep into the pit of Gohan’s stomach. That was the same tone of voice Chi-Chi used when she told him he was going to school, or when she told them to stop training This Instant. He couldn’t  _ ignore _ it, and Gohan had a very Bad Feeling that the Talk was going to be about whatever virtual bloodbath was going on with his mother’s (ex?) family.

Gohan shuffled backwards into the safety of the woods, at which point he darted off into the wilderness at a velocity which was just  _ barely _ within human parameters. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not fly off towards Capsule Corp at top speed the second he hit the treeline-fast he might have been, but invisible he was not, and explaining how he could fly to his weird aunt was the Last Thing he wanted to do, because even if flying was an Actual Martial Arts Thing, people still thought it was Weird and Unnatural, and also because he was already on the Thinnest Ice Ever with Miss Mei, and he was absolutely Not going to tip everything over the edge by _ flying  _ in plain sight.

Even with his initial dawdling sprint, he made it to Capsule Corp in a little less than half an hour and screeched to a halt in the living area. On one hand, he really  _ should  _ go get Father and Goten; on the other, Dad was  _ one hundred percent  _ Fighting Vegeta in the Gravity Room, which meant that if Gohan wandered anywhere remotely  _ near _ the vicinity  _ he _ was going to get dragged into the Fight, and, haha, No. Could he fight them? Probably, Yes. But he did not Want to, and also was on An Errand that was most definitely at least a _ little _ Time Sensitive. 

Which  _ meant _ that Gohan had to figure out a way to draw his father out into the open, preferably without incurring the Wrath of Vegeta in the process. 

This, of course, meant that Gohan had about three options. 

Option 1: Wait. Either they would get tired eventually, or-more likely- they'd sense Gohan and come to drag him down. Pros of this plan were that he didn't actually have to do anything; cons of this were. Literally everything else. 

Option 2: Ask Bulma for help. Pros of this plan were that Bulma had The Magic Touch and Dad and Vegeta were about two hundred times more likely to listen to  _ her _ than to  _ him _ . Cons were that Bulma was a) just as bad as Krillen, and thus prone to ribbing Gohan over slipping out to talk to Videl and b) nosey, which meant that Gohan would have to Explain why he came back, and given that Gohan himself barely understood  _ why _ he had to get Dad and Goten, he expressly Did Not Want To Do That. 

Option 3: Lure Goten and Trunks into doing his dirty work for him. Pros of this plan were that Gohan had to get Goten anyway, and Goten and Trunks were less likely to get drawn into a Fight on account of being a) like seven and b) little demon children. Cons were that they  _ were _ little demon children, and thus as likely to stab him in the back and leave him to flounder as they were to help.

“Gohan? I have to admit, I didn’t think you were going to show up after ditching us for your  _ girlfriend _ .” Gohan very much  _ did not  _ squeak in surprise as Bulma appears out of  _ nowhere _ , lips twisted in a gentle smirk as she teases.

Okay then, Option 2 it is, apparently.

“Heey Bulma. I was, uh-Mom told me to get Dad and Goten so I was just-”

“Avoiding getting dragged into another free-for-all?” Okay, so he’s obvious. Sue him, he’s got Other Things to do. Especially  _ Right Now _ .

The roiling sea of panic in his gut must show on his face, because Bulma’s brow furrows in concern.

“You alright there, kiddo? You look a little- peaky.” As a matter of fact, he is Not Alright, and maybe he’s been on the verge of Panic since his aunt (Aunt!) had shown up, but he wasn’t going to  _ say _ that. First of all because he’s Practically an Adult and not willing to admit that even _ after _ going to high school for almost a year, having to interact with Real People still makes him break out in a cold sweat, second of all because he has absolutely no idea of  _ how _ to explain the events of the past couple of hours without collapsing into a gibbering mess.

Logically, he  _ should _ , he knows. Bulma is  _ family _ in every way that matters, is going to be told everything eventually, and to top it all off-she’s  _ rich _ . As in, really, truly, mind-bogglingly wealthy, firmly in the point oh-one percent, for all that she slums around with the most mismatched collection of rough-and-tumble martial artists in the solar system. Which means that, outside of his own mother, she’s probably the only person Gohan knows who knows enough about the lives of the upper class-whose lives are as alien (ha!) to him as his is to theirs- even _ if _ running a company with the net-worth of a small country is a different kind of rich than the kind that comes from  _ actually _ running a country-to help him.

But Gohan is wound tighter than a drum, pulse thrumming nervously in his veins at a rate that while barely average in a full-blooded human, is positively staccato to _ him, _ and he’s half-certain that the slightest attempt to relax and Tell Bulma  _ anything _ would result in less of a reasonable and mature explanation than it would him bursting into tears as the rush of panic-infused adrenaline that Gohan was currently keeping tamped down through sheer force of will overwhelmed his feeble attempts at calm. 

Luckily, Bulma-while far from an emotional savant-had known Gohan for more than long enough to recognize the impending signs of a breakdown, the kind that-contrary to popular belief-had  _ not _ disappeared once he learned to ignore his Overwhelming Fear and fight back against full-grown men, but which had instead been relegated to problems of the more emotional variety, because  _ thanks _ to Trauma, Gohan could deal with an impending apocalypse or getting beaten to a pulp without flinching, but the second some authority figure looked even vaguely disapproving he was about three seconds from tearing up. 

“Okay Gohan, how about this. You go into the kitchen and relax for a bit, and I’ll go and get Goku and Goten in the meantime.” There was a gentle hand on his shoulder, and the feel of calloused fingers pressing through the worn fabric of his shirt was enough to draw Gohan back from the edge. Scrubbing at his face, he took a deep, shuddering breath-in from the nose, out through the mouth, the same way his self-help books described-and stood, nodding gratefully at Bulma.

Kitchen and wait. He could do that. He could most definitely do that, Capsule Corp had The Best kitchens, courtesy of Bulma’s bottomless pockets and the Saiyans’ natural appetite.

“Did Chi-Chi tell you when she wanted you home?” That was. An excellent question. Gohan paused. Mom hadn’t said anything specific, but he was like ninety percent sure he’d mentioned Capsule Corp earlier, and even if Miss Mei assumed he’d meant one of the auxiliary locations closer to Mt. Paozu as opposed to Headquarters that was still, what, a good fifty-sixty miles from the base of the mountain? And that was without considering the time it’d take to traverse the mountain itself. So if he had to make it home in A Normal-not-Suspicious amount of time, then assuming he used the old jetcopter excuse, that was what, a couple hours round trip? Plus however long it took to get Dad and Goten.

“Uhhh, like, I dunno, an hour? An hour and a half?” Now or never, Gohan,  _ spit it out _ . “Her, um, her half-sister is there? So not _ that  _ soon, I don’t think.” Bulma is. Not nearly as surprised as she  _ should _ be, and what surprise there  _ is  _ seems to be directed more at  _ him _ than the news.

Oh, come on,  _ really _ ?  _ Bulma _ knew? What was this, some Secret Conspiracy the adults were keeping? Maybe Gohan was being petty, but it was one thing for his mother to Keep Secrets by herself, it was another to realize that it was a Collaborative Effort. 

Evidently, he’s not nearly as subtle as he’d hoped because Bulma’s eyebrows pinch as she waves her hand placatingly. 

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that, As far as I know, it’s only me and Goku that know.” DAD knew? As in, his  _ father _ ? As in, the most oblivious person ever? And he’d never  _ said _ anything? Okay, no, actually, that wasn’t quite right, Father _ was _ undeniably the kind of person who could be told something as earth-shattering as a secret Ultra-Royal family and have the potential consequences roll off his back like water. But still. It was the  _ principle  _ of the thing.

“I’ll give you a jetcopter, god knows I have more than enough prototypes lying around. That way at least you’ll have some proof if her royal highness or whoever gets all hoity-toity about it.” Bulma’s deflecting, and they both know it, but Gohan is, quite frankly, exhausted from the days events, and Bulma is, at least, providing a balm for the ever present anxiety that bubbles in his gut.

Pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes, Gohan sighs. “Thanks Bulma. 

That’ll. Help a lot actually.” 

There’s just the slightest hint of gentleness to her voice as Bulma waves him off brusquely.

“Geez Gohan, you’re family and you know it. Besides, after the fiasco with Videl, god knows you need all the help you can get.” Gohan Does Not turn a burning shade of red and make a sound like he’s dying only through an act of Extreme Willpower, because it was Not his fault Videl was Sneaky and Suspicious and Refused to Give Up and Bulma was playing very dirty, but by the time he’d composed himself enough to unbury his face from his hands he found himself blinking guilelessly into and empty room which. Rude. But well played Bulma, well played.

Slumping in something between relief and exhaustion, Gohan collapses onto the nearest flat...ish surface and shudders, falling back on decades old meditation techniques Piccolo had taught him to wait. He was fine. He was an Awesome Superhero, he could handle whatever flaming, acidic, monster curveballs Life threw at him, no sweat. 

There had been a blessed few hours of peace after  _ her nephew _ ran off to god knows where to find the rest of Chi’s misbegotten abomination of a  _ family _ , just barely enough time for the barest beginnings of the pulsing tension headache caused by the absolute fiasco of a meeting to leech away into something just barely approaching manageability. And even then, it was only years of practice with the dull, treacherous days of court that kept Mei’s brow unmarred by a pained wrinkle.

A finger twitched on her teacup as Mei tamped down the urge to give in and rub at her temples. Family Chi might be, but close they were not, and Mei was entirely unwilling to display such an obvious show of weakness in front of her. Bad enough that she’d been visibly flustered earlier by Chi’s adamant denial of her past and the …  _ unusual _ appearance of her so-called nephew. She was a model princess, Chi was decidedly not, and to allow for something as trivial as a  _ headache _ to cause her to lose any more composure would simply not do. 

So Mei squared her shoulders and narrowed her eyes and met Chi’s gaze with steely determination. If Chi refused to elaborate on her  _ family _ , then so be it. Mei had spent years interacting with silver-tongued nobles - she was more than capable of dealing with the silent treatment given by her painfully rough-edged sister.

There was a sudden  _ boom _ , and the chipped ceramic plates rattled threatenly on the table. Mei deliberately did  _ not _ flinch at what she was only now realizing was the noise of a door being opened by a burst of violent, inhuman strength. Some distant recess of her brain froze as gooseflesh prickled up her arms, but her arms remained steady as she threw a calculated glance towards the doorway.

Breath caught in her throat as she stiffened, muted sense of horror rising in her throat as she stared at the latest set of interruptions. There was the lanky form of her  _ nephew,  _ still in freckle-pale  _ almost _ -human shape, posture made all the more abysmal by the child-creature resting easily on his back, dark eyes wide in fascination as it-the  _ other _ nephew?-stared at her unblinkingly, craning it’s-his-neck to peer over the broad back of the undeniably full grown monster blocking most of the doorway.

Gohan had been. Unpleasant and unnatural and far too tall, and just barely human enough to make his appearance all the more discomfiting, but the bit of Chi that shone through had been enough to make him-familiar. The creature in the doorway, however, was humanoid only in the loosest sense of the term. In a way, the complete lack of physical humanity in his features caused less of a squirming in her gut, no sense of unease at something that looked too much like something it was not, but whatever relief that came from that was quickly overshadowed by an appearance even more monstrous than it’s son’s. It wasn’t  _ quite  _ as tall as the boy, even with the wild mass of bristling hair, but it was  _ solid _ and broad in a way Gohan wasn’t, limbs thick with muscle and lacking the last vestiges of baby fat that clung to even nearly-grown adolescents. There was no softness to its form, all harsh edges and broad planes and bristling furs, innately dangerous in a way that Chi’s son had yet to properly emanate. Its canines were every bit as oversized as Gohan’s had been before the … shift, and unlike its son, the rest of its teeth were equally sharp, bared wide in a grotesque parody of a grin. Even the fluorescent orange of the  _ gi _ seemed mocking, a neon declaration of danger.

“Aa, ya really do look like Chi-Chi!” The creature exclaimed, distressingly genial. 

“Goku!” Chi cried, clasping her hands together as her eyes glittered wetly; it was the same type of sickly-sweet expression Mei had seen on low class couples before, as if their partner was the only other person on the planet. It was disgustingly plebeian, a completely unnecessary display of unrestrained emotion. 

Lifting a handkerchief to her lips, Mei coughed delicately, the sound successfully serving to draw attention to her before she would be forced to witness her sister’s ridiculous courtship displays with her… _ husband _ . 

Settling properly into her role as Imperial Princess, Mei steeled her gaze as she stood in a swirl of silks, hands folding together and hidden by voluminous sleeves (and if the sleeves hid the paleness of her knuckles, well, all the better).

“Well. Now that your wayward  _ family _ has returned, it’s time we finally begin our business.”

Chi bristles, shoulders drawing stiffly upwards, but her face is steely as she folds hands neatly together in her lap. Tension settles thickly in the air as the pregnant pause swells, silence deafening. When Chi finally speaks, her voice is tightly drawn with trepidation.

“Do you want to begin, or should I?” How quaint of her, offering the illusion of control. Mei narrows her eyes at the clumsy attempt at politicking, but shakes her head all the same. Chi was the one to get herself into this mess, so Chi gets to be the one to get herself out. 

“Gohan. How much did you tell them?” Hunkering down behind his behemoth father, the boy splutters at the sudden address, black eyes impossibly wide.

“Me? Oh-uh, the basics? I-I mean I guess. I went over Miss Mei being... _ here _ , and uh, Mr. Great-Grandfather being dead and stuff.”  _ And stuff _ , really. Mei resisted the urge to sigh. Even discounting the frankly ridiculous amount of work necessary to make any of Chi’s family anywhere close to physically presentable, Gohan alone would require a tremendous amount of etiquette lessons to control his anxiety fits, and Mei had a sinking feeling that Gohan-anxious and jittery as he was-was quite possibly the most well-adjusted to  _ human _ society.

Chi pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing gently at the response. “All right, that’s the bare-bones of it, at least.” Tilting her head toward her  _ husband _ , Chi pursed her lips. “Goku, do you remember what I told you about my family, back when we were first married?” The creature puts a meaty hand on its chin, adopting what Mei assumes is probably an expression of deep concentration. There’s a momentary pause before dark eyes light up and the creature raises a hand in the air in apparent triumph.

“They’re fancy an’ mean? An’ more stuffed up than ole Gyu-toudono, with lottsa rules an’ regulations, an’ ya didn’ like that, so ya left.” The creature drawls in the most hick-like accent Mei has ever had the displeasure of hearing. She’d noticed it earlier, a bit, but the creatures heavy baritone, while not- _ entirely _ unpleasant to the ear, was leavened by the hardness and elongations of a  _ deep _ mountain Yamato accent, one of the heaviest she’s ever heard, and rolled with an unknown foreign burr that tinged his words much more prominently than they had its son, who if not for the reprehensible stuttering would almost sound like a proper young man of standing. Almost. 

Chi brings her hands together in a fluid movement, nodding once sharply. “Right. So I didn’t quite tell ya everything, because at first I quite frankly wanted to put everything of _that_ _life_ behind me, and then after Gohan was born and the _Incident_ with your brother everything ended up so hectic that giving you a more in depth explanation slipped my mind entirely.

“As you know, my mother’s family rules over the Shenzhou dynasty, and my grandfather was the Imperial Emperor. My mother was his second daughter and third child, but she was the first born to his wife and not an imperial concubine, which places her and her descendants in the most direct line of descent. It also means that, with my grandfather dead, she is in a favorable position to inherit the throne. With the way the Jiang Clan is structured, blood and power are everything, especially for the Imperial Trials. Mother’s bloodline is impeccable, and-” here she pauses, face darkening momentarily, “-Mother managed to enter two proper arranged marriages with two  _ different  _ kings, thanks to very specific loopholes in her marriage contracts. I’m the only child born of the first union, and my birth fulfilled the terms of the contract so that the marriage could be annulled, and my mother then married the king of Huadi, of whom three more children were born, including Mei.

“I was allowed to stay with my father for the first twelve years of my life thanks to the terms set of the contract, after which I was to stay with the main family until I reached adulthood. It was- _ heavily implied _ that those years would ensure that my blood-alliance to Shenzhou would remain strong, and that I would join the proper ranks of the Imperial prince and princesses.” Venom practically drips from her words, edges sharp and clipped as eyes narrow with old, practiced anger.

“There was...a loophole, and I used it to go back to Father’s kingdom and  _ leave _ .” Chi closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. “I went to the World Martial Arts Tournament and found you again, and I-I never looked back. I’d  _ hoped _ that between taking your name and naturalizing into Yamato and Lodesian citizenship would be sufficient to hide me, but  _ clearly _ I was mistaken. And unfortunately, because-technical elopement or not-our marriage  _ was _ filed through the proper channels according to Oxian law, it’s still considered valid in Shenzhou.

“If it wasn’t, and we were only married according to Lodesian law, then Gohan and Goten would be considered to be illegitimate members of the royal line, and in this case that’s a good thing, because it would mean that none of ya would get dragged into the Trials even if I was. As it is, Goku, you’re technically a Prince Consort, and Gohan and Goten are second generation imperial princes.”

“And that’s a problem,” Mei cuts in sharply, eyeing hesitant Chi icily, “Because it is the duty of every member of the imperial family to assist their King or Queen in the Imperial trials and gain glory for their line of descent. Under normal circumstances, imperial royals who are heirs of foreign allies, such as ourselves, are especially valuable due to our very existence serving as proof of our line’s powerful connections.

“ _ However,” _ Mei bites, “If the rest of the clan were to learn about  _ this _ , our line of the clan would become ridiculed. As it is, unfortunately, I can’t very well leave you here, because doing so would imply that Chi has officially and fully terminated her ties to Shenzhou, and that would be an even greater blow to Mother’s campaign.” Her brow furrows lightly as she brushes off the flash of  _ hurt _ that creases the faces of Chi’s family. It is undeniably true, after all. Their line would accept it, for the sake of appearance, but if the truth of what Chi married spread to another branch, it’d be political suicide. 

“For the most part that leaves us with a single option, going forward. I have to bring Chi, and as you’re unfortunately attached to Chi, I have to bring you as well, so you get an intensive course on the very basics of history, etiquette, and humanity before the trials begin in earnest. Hopefully, it will be enough to allow you to at least  _ pretend _ to be proper human members of society, if not proper royals. That way, we can pass this-” Mei waves a dismissive hand around the mildly cramped living room, “-as a flight of adolescent fantasy that went on too long instead of whatever unnatural  _ thing _ that actually happened.” She sniffs. “It will still be a terrible scandal of course, but better a scandal than the alternative.”

Miss Mei’s words jab venomous barbs into the cracks lining his admittedly not-spectacular self-esteem, and it takes a considerable amount of Restraint to not hide behind Father’s bulk at the violent sting. 

“I’m  _ human _ !” The words slip from his mouth, unbidden. It’s. Technically not a lie. He _ is _ human, just as much as he’s a saiyan, even if  _ everybody _ likes to ignore that fact because he  _ looks _ more like Father than Mother, and  _ maybe _ it’s not the most Important part of Mother and Miss Mei’s story-because, okay, there’s A Lot of Stuff to Process-the easy cruelness of Miss Mei’s remarks to him and Father and Goten  _ hurt _ , a squeezing reminder of his inadequacy in either direction, too saiyan to ever be human and too human to ever be saiyan (-some part of his mind is freezing back towards moment after moment of battle, a  _ child _ fighting desperately for his life because of unwanted inborn strength, and  _ hey _ , you’re saiyan, saiyans  _ love _ to  ** _f i g h t_ ** , to the unease of his first days Orange Star when he realized that no, apparently, he was as Bad a human as he was a saiyan, too strong, too fast, too hungry, too strange, too odd-looking, too  _ wrong- _ ), rattling in his brain until they spill from his lips in an unwanted cry.

Judging by the withering look Miss Mei shoots him, it’s. Not appreciated. This time he really does shrink back, shoulders drawing up tightly by his ears.

Beside him, Goten wriggles impatiently, seven year old brain long since having vacated from the boring adult conversation until something Interesting happens.

“Does this mean I get ta be a prince like Trunks? I wanna be a prince like Trunks!” Oh  _ great _ , thanks little brother. So far Miss Mei’s apparently too uppity to question Why Father and them are Like That, but mentioning  _ alien royalty _ is not precisely what one would call Low Key.

Luckily Mother cuts in, breezing in with an answer before Miss Mei can ask any incriminating questions. “Trunks is...the boys’ cousin. He’s the heir to the Capsule Corporation, so the tabloids often refer to him as a prince.” Miss Mei wrinkles her nose at the answer, presumably at the thought of them having  _ relatives _ , but she doesn’t  _ say _ anything, at least. 

Father scratches at his cheek almost sheepishly, grin just a hair too long to be entirely natural. The tightness of his grin does nothing to settle Gohan-Father is always a steady presence, calm even in the face of world-ending danger. If even  _ Father  _ feels ill at ease, then Gohan is Doomed.

“Well, I wouldn’ say we’re a secret ‘round these parts, if that’s what you’re worried about. ‘S not like we never go to the village or nothin’, an’ I compete in tournaments sometimes.” Logically speaking, Miss Mei is probably the only one in the room who doesn’t have any sort of superpowers At All, but Gohan swears the temperature in the room lowers by a few degrees as the look on Miss Mei’s face somehow goes even Colder. 

“That is... _ not possible _ . I had my personal data analysts scour the entire internet for  _ any _ mention of you, and keywords that would turn up in relation to you, on a six month basis for the past two decades, and not  _ one of them  _ has ever turned up any mention at  _ all _ about-” Miss Mei pauses, upper lip curling in distaste,”- _ this _ .” She sniffs snootily. “The most information I could find even remotely related to you was something about the Ox King’s daughter fighting in one of those barbarian martial arts tournaments and getting married to the winner, which was, of course, a disappointment, but I  _ think I would have remembered _ the article bringing up the fact that your new husband looked like  _ that, _ and even after expanding the search parameters I found exactly  _ nothing _ of interest!” Gohan blinked, face pale. She...internet stalked-or hired people to internet stalk-them? Or well, internet stalked Mother mostly. That was  _ weird, _ Royalty were  _ so weird,  _ Gohan didn’t like this  _ At All _ . Although at least her...minions...hadn’t found anything Incriminating, even though that was also Weird. Some of it, Gohan knew, was that the Alien Nonsense like the East City Fiasco focused on Evil and Destruction, and not the Heroes who fought Evil in the Middle of Nowhere, and that even when there were People Watching, nobody knew who they actually were (score one for Super Saiyan!). But Gohan had been Told Stories of Father’s Adventures as a child, and unlike his grown up Adventures, which usually took place in Space or in the Middle of Nowhere because Aliens, there were lots and lots of Witnesses to the Weird, so he’d have thought there was at least Something buried deep in the recesses of the internet. There at least three Saiyaman conspiracy theory blogs, Gohan knew, and he’d only been around for a few months. Father wasn’t  _ that  _ old, they’d had to have had the internet or tv or something when he was Adventuring, and Father had never been Discreet. 

“There are more forces in this world than you know,  _ Sister _ . There’s more than one way to keep a secret.” Mother said, as if that made Sense. Maybe it did? Miss Mei looked like she’d swallowed a lemon, but not in a confused way, so apparently it did to her. It was official, Gohan Hated Politics. It was bad enough figuring out what people actually Meant when they weren’t trying to be twisty, much less when it was part of their goal to be Confusing. Was he supposed to learn how to be Twisty? It sounded like he did, but he couldn’t be  _ Twisty _ , he could barely stretch the truth without immediately Incriminating himself. Valiantly resisting the urge to crumple into a little ball, Gohan slumped, eyes darting back and forth between Mother and Miss Mei as they glared daggers at each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so Mei...doesn't really like Saiyans. Or anything 'abnormal' and not proper. She'll get better. Eventually. I think. This chapter wasn't necessarily as humorous as I'd hoped, whoops.  
As you might tell I am uh. Playing fast and loose with certain aspects of DBZ, so notes:  
Geography wise, there's a lot more countries-Obviously there's Shenzhou as DBZ China, and the Ox Kingdom, but there's also DBZ Japan (it's not actually that relevant in-story, but it's where Grandpa Gohan was from before he moved to the Ox Kingdom, and where Master Roshi, Krillin, and Yamcha are from) as Yamato, and Rosea Lode (?), colloquially referred to as Compass Country, which is where all the directional (and Satan) cities are. The Ox Kingdom is still a fairly small country, but it's bordered by a lot of different countries, which makes it a good trade center. On it's northeastern side, it's bordered by Shenzhou, and on the southeastern side its bordered by mainland Yamato, and culturally, there's a lot of overlap with those countries. It's bordered on the south and northwest by two other countries, and directly west of it is Compass Country. Technically, Mt. Paozu is right on a border mountain of the Ox Kingdom, with one side part of the Ox Kingdom and the other part of Compass Country (which is technically how Gohan avoids people thinking he crosses the border everyday-he lives stupid far away, sure, but so long as he doesn't specify what side he lives on people assume he lives on the border).  
Relationship/Citizenship wise Chi-Chi is obviously a citizen in Shenzhou and the Ox Kingdom, but as mentioned in-fic she's technically a citizen of Yamato and Compass Country thanks to Goku. Goku is legally Yamatoan thanks to his grandpa, who lived in the mountains of Yamato before he moved to Mt. Paozu, and he's also legally a citizen of Compass Country, because my personal headcanon is that when he and Bulma first met, she saw an Orphan Child and was like, well guess I have a brother now, so technically he is legally a Briefs thanks to some dubiously legal adoption papers that there's a 20% chance he did not know existed until he and Chi-Chi had to fill out paperwork, and as the Briefs are Lodesians, so is he (which is why Gohan could apply to go to school in Compass Country). Legally it's very confusing and very uncommon, but I mean, they're already weird in a bunch of other areas. So. I do what I want.  
Also-Beastmen and magic are Still A Thing, even if magic is a pretty Obscure thing, which is how Goku got away with a lot of stuff when he was younger, even though technically there's no primate beastmen in this verse because of genetic similarity to humans, since the average person doesn't know that. The acceptance of animal people and other weird things varies wildly from place to place though, and aliens existing would be a whole other beast (i.e. the reason fantasy and sci-fi are two distinct genres-mixing it gets weird, only it's real life).


	3. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward conversations, continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha so, five months is technically not quite half a year. Ft. Chapter three of unfortunately unfunny exposition. This is...on the short end, but if for once in my life I get my act together a new chapter will be coming...soonish? Hopefully finally including the Required Makeover Scene.

After an eternity of  _ glaring _ , Mother and Miss Mei seemed to reach...some sort of agreement. Maybe. Probably. They both sighed and dropped their shoulders into something a tad less aggressively formal anyway, movements eerily synchronized. For two people who sure seemed to Hate each other, they were. Almost creepily alike at times. 

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Mother sighed, tucking the bottom of her chin in a familiar world-weary slump. “How long do we even have before the Trial officially begins?” 

“If we dawdle as much as we dare? Maybe three weeks before we absolutely  _ have _ to depart for Shenzhou.” Mother winced at Miss Mei’s given timeframe, and Gohan made a sad little squeak in dismay. Three  _ weeks? _ He had School! He’d already ditched for like a solid month Before the Tournament to Train back in September, and it was only barely March. If he had to Leave in  _ three weeks _ , he’d miss like,  _ another  _ month of school probably, because well-technically he  _ Could _ go to Orange Star from basically wherever in the world- but he had a Feeling that flying to school would a)be Highly Suspicious and b) probably not Allowed, and if he missed another Big Chunk of school then he wouldn’t be able to  _ graduate _ , and if he didn’t graduate then he’d Never be a scientist. Almost more importantly, no school meant no Friends and No Saiyaman, and that meant probably No  _ Videl _ . It had taken  _ so long _ for Gohan to have more than one Friend; he  _ liked _ having friends, and he Liked having a Partner In Crime who was More than A Friend.

Valiantly resisting the urge to whine low in his throat, Gohan tentatively lifted a hand in almost entirely restrained distress. Miss Mei glared at him with icy eyes, but this was Important, so he ignored the quivering in his gut and squared his shoulders defiantly.

“I-Um. I have school until June though, and, uh, things happened so I already missed. A lot of it, and I can’t really afford to miss...more?” Miss Mei threw him a disbelieving glance, raising her eyes heavenward with a huff.

“You live on a godforsaken mountain in the middle of absolutely nowhere. What on  _ earth  _ could you possibly learn in whatever backwards mountain school that’s so terribly important?” Miss Mei snaps, eyes positively glacial. Gohan is. Peeved. Okay well, technically there’s nothing  _ wrong _ with village schools, but he goes to Orange Star! It’s one of the top schools in Compass Country  _ and  _ its neighboring kingdoms. It’s not some two-bit place in the middle of nowhere. Mother would have never allowed it. 

“You go to school  _ where _ ?” Mei demands. “Orange Star-is that named after the  _ city _ ? That’s  _ hundreds  _ of miles away.” See, this is why Gohan keeps his mouth shut. Nothing good ever comes out of him Saying Things. 

Flushing, Gohan scrambles for the capsule Bulma had given him earlier, sending a mental prayer up to the heavens. He presents it proudly to Miss Mei, steadfastly ignoring the beads of sweat that trickle down his neck. “It’s a gift, a-a prototype. From my aunt. It’s real fast, so the commute isn’t-it’s not terrible, ‘s only a little bit more than an hour,” Gohan fibs, frantically scrambling for hazy memories of how long it took Videl to get here back when she used her own jetcopter, “And the schools great, so it’s...worth it?” His voice trails off into a question under Miss Mei’s intense gaze. Oh no, he Does Not like this at all. 

It takes a very tense thirty seconds, but Miss Mei sighs, dropping her head to lean on one of her hands. 

“Of course it is,” she says, long suffering. “You do realize that, regardless, we’re working on a limited schedule? The three weeks before the trials are needed to whip you three into being… moderately presentable for court, not for you to gallivant around Rosea Lode cavorting with  _ commoners. _ ” Gohan glances at Mother desperately. Mother’s always been the one insistent on Gohan getting a proper Education, she has to be on his side. 

Sure enough, Mother places her hands firmly on her hips as she glares at her sister. “Listen here  _ Mei _ . My Gohan wants to be a great scholar, and his education is  _ important _ . His studies have been disrupted enough, an’ Gohan needs to interact with his peers. Besides,” Mother winces, “Gohan’s got the most practice acting normal-like thanks to school, so he can probably get by with less-intensive tutoring.” Mother doesn’t mention his First Week Fiasco, or the fact that he still has the occasional problem understanding Real People, and Gohan resolutely resists the urge to crumple in relief.

“Oh please, as if interacting with commoners is anywhere close to the etiquette he needs to learn to interact with  _ royalty _ . Besides, even if he is allowed to go to school in the meanwhile, the commute alone is hours that could have been spent on more important manners, wasted.”

“And so  _ what? _ _ You _ barged into our lives and I  _ agreed _ we’ll participate in the stupid Trial, you can’t expect us to immediately uproot our lives for the sake of a country they’ve never even visited!”

“And that’s  _ my _ fault? You were the one who  _ left. _ ” There’s another Glaring Contest, and this time it’s Miss Mei who breaks first, scrubbing a hand over her face viciously. “Fine! Fine. The boy can go to his little school until we go to Shenzhou. We can stay in the embassy in the capital.”

“The  _ embassy? _ ” Mother questions sharply, eyebrow drawing up severely.

“ _ Yes, _ Chi, the  _ embassy _ , _ ” _ Miss Mei repeats mockingly. “If I’m going to allow the boy to go off gallivanting, I’m not going to let him waste hours of valuable tutoring time flying home every single day. Besides,” She sniffs delicately, “If your  _ family  _ is going to be brought into the fold, then forcing them to interact with human beings is a good place as any to start.” There’s a furrow, barely noticeable but undeniably There, lining Father’s brow as he bounces between their conversation. Even Goten is starting to squirm uneasily. “They  _ can _ do...whatever it is that... _ Gohan _ ...is doing, correct? It’s good practice for the future.”

Mother tilts her head in reluctant assent. “Goku?” Father hums, and the air Twists, shimmering like a mirage. By this point Gohan’s lost count of the times he’s done the mimicry trick himself, but it’s always a spectacle watching someone else Shift, even without the eye-searing haze of going super-saiyan. It’s-different, watching Father or Vegeta transform, than it is when he (or even Goten or Trunks) do it. With Gohan and the other hybrids, there’s enough human DNA  _ there _ to guide them along; the Trick prickles and cracks, but it’s... _ smooth _ , for lack of a better term, flowing across their bodies like water. Father and Vegeta don’t have that, and with them there’s no half-second of transition, no moment of in betweenness. Instead, the air crackles with low-level static, and there’s a sudden  _ snap _ of change (Bulma has a hypothesis that the saiyans and the hybrids methods of mimicry are entirely different, despite the achievement of the same result, but Father was Dead until recently and  _ Vegeta  _ wouldn’t agree to be poked and prodded in the name of Science, and they were the only two saiyans left, so her hypothesis remained a hypothesis only). 

Father relaxes next to him, uncurling from the tension that always precedes Transformations with a sheepish grin. Gohan’s arms tingle in sympathetic distress, even though he’s nowhere near his limit. Goten’s features twist for a moment in sympathy, crackling on the verge of transforming, but Goten bats the moment away with a puff of his cheeks.

In front of them, Miss Mei is Staring with the same calculation she’d had earlier, and even not focused on him it makes him shiver. The everpresent distaste doesn’t leave her face, but some of the tightness along her jaw vanishes. 

“This is… an  _ improvement _ , I suppose,” she says reluctantly, gaze fixated on the Trick’s tells, the still present point of the ear and the smaller but still present flash of fang, “It’s certainly better than what we were working with before, at any rate.”

Her nose wrinkles, and for the first time, she addresses Father Directly, spitting out his name like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth. “Tell me,  _ Goku,  _ how long can you keep... _ that _ up?”

Father points at himself, seemingly bemused. “This? I’m a bit outta practice, but somewhere aroun’ six hours I think.” It’s more or less true-technically Gohan has seen Father maintain it for longer, but the more someone goes past their limit, the greater the chance of a backlash, and keeping the Trick going too long  _ hurts _ . It’s a bit ironic that one of the two basic saiyan transformations has a shorter time frame than a properly managed Super Saiyan, and Gohan’s best hypothesis is that it’s strain of warping their physiological structure that limits the Trick’s transformation time, despite the fact that it only requires the barest trickle of  _ ki,  _ barely more than what is naturally used to keep a living body running.

Miss Mei’s mouth twists at the response, lips pursing together firmly.

“And you?” It takes a moment for Gohan to realize he’s the one being addressed, stuttering to attention with a start.

“Me? Oh, uh, nowadays it’s like, uh, three days, I think. Straight I mean, obviously, ‘cause I-I can’t stand out in school, and normally it’s not necessary to keep it going quite so long, but I…” Gohan trails off with a flush, twisting his hands in his lap as Miss Mei stares him down.

“A-anyway, most of the-most of the time I, uh, I go twelve and twelve hours on and off.”

“And the…  _ child _ ?”

“His name is  _ Goten _ , and he can talk for himself!” Mother snaps, fuming. Goten uncurls slightly at the sound of his name, vibrating in place.

“Wha’ about me? Camo mode? I can do that! Me an’ Trunks have a competition!” Goten pipes up, emboldened. He scrunches his nose in concentration, barely pausing to Shift before continuing to ramble. “See? We ain’t as good as Gohan-nii-chan  _ yet _ , but I’mma beat him one day! I can already go-” Goten pauses, counting on still-chubby digits as he adds up the time, “-like a whole day an’ a  _ half _ if I try really, really hard, an’ Trunks went for almost two whole days once!” Goten  _ doesn’t _ mention that most of the time the Trick dissipates in four or five hours, but he’s spent way too much time around Vegeta and Trunks to not be a little bit prideful, and with the way Miss Mei is glaring, Gohan can’t blame his baby brother regardless.

Miss Mei  _ twitches _ , fingers curling like she very much wants to rub at her temples or pinch the bridge of her nose or do any of the other half dozen exasperated tics Mother has. She does Not, however, do any of those things, although her face flits through a series of Complicated and Unhappy emotions.

“...Of course,” she sighs, evidently disgruntled. Her lips twitch up into an uncomfortable half smile. “Well, it… could be  _ worse _ . It could be several degrees better, obviously, but well, I suppose I’ll have to make do.” Mother grimaces, eyes burning. There’s the definite sound of teeth grinding together.

“Are you quite  _ done _ harassing my family?” 

Miss Mei sniffs genteely. For a moment, Gohan is certain she’s about to snap back at Mother, but there’s a flicker in grey eyes as she settles for looking firmly Down her nose at them instead.

She stays like that for a long moment, frosty and self contained as she stands poisedly in the center of the living room, delicate silk entirely at odds with the mismatched furniture and hastily plastered walls.

“I shall take leave for now,” she says, gaze still disdainful as they flick across the room. “Never say I’m not generous. Chi, I will allow you and...your  _ family _ one last night to play make-believe  _ commoners _ .” She sniffs, distaste practically dripping of her words.

“Still, I expect you to meet me tomorrow at the embassy. I would tell you to pack, but-” Miss Mei’s upper lip curls,”-frankly, it’s best for us all if you don’t even bother.” With that, she stalks out of the house, sleeves fluttering dramatically.

Gohan is, as he has been all afternoon, gobsmacked. She was So Rude. Mother had plenty of fancy stuff buried in her closet, but it was a waste of space in a household where things got Broken as often as Not. Also, he realized with a start,  _ where was she going?  _ Their house was So Far from civilization, w h a t.

Scrambling towards the open doorway, Gohan peeks outside, watching as Miss Mei comes to a stop in the middle of the clearing. She claps her hands once, and  _ half a dozen men scurry out of the woods with a palanquin. _

What. No seriously,  _ What?  _ Where had they Come From? Had they been here this whole time?? He hadn’t seen them, or heard them, or smelled them, or even sensed them with  _ ki _ ,  _ what in the galaxy _ . How were they  _ there _ . They didn’t even have the  _ decency  _ to be holes-in-the-world like 18-technically obvious, since presumably they  _ aren’t  _ super android-cyborgs created to destroy  _ ki- _ users and aliens, but still it’s  _ creepy _ the way the men have controlled their  _ ki _ to the point it’s undetectable without being obvious.

Gohan has read the books, more or less (by which he means he’d poked around Kame House until he found something that described  _ ki _ in terms that were more advanced than ‘feel the energy inside of you’ and ‘with this it’ll go boom  _ faster _ ’). Technically- it  _ is _ possible, for a  _ ki _ user to be able to spread out their energy so thinly that it becomes indistinguishable from their environment, but it’s not a technique Gohan has ever seen. His family can control their ki enough to make it unremarkable, but the gap between merely unremarkable and entirely untraceable is one that’s not so easily crossed.  _ Ki _ is a dying art, Gohan knows. The dusty scrolls he’d picked over in the trauma filled hellscape he’d called a childhood spoke of several styles of  _ ki  _ manipulation, if only in the barest of detail most of the time. 

Turtle style (and Demon style, technically, even if-like Vegeta’s style- it’s a style of martial  _ ki _ art from the stars) is meant for  _ power _ , not control. Most martial  _ ki _ arts involve bodily enhancement to some degree, true, making even baseline human martial artists hardier than the average civilian, but the degree to which enhancement is emphasized depends on the style used. Turtle Style was graceful in the way that all martial arts were graceful,  _ ki _ arts or not, the grace that comes from knowing  _ exactly  _ how to control your body for maximum efficency, but it is decidedly not a graceful  _ style _ . Instead, it focuses on overpowering opponents with sheer destructive force, all beam attacks and super strength, which is brutally efficient, and works great for people with unnaturally large  _ ki _ reserves like Krillin and Yamcha and Roshi and even better for aliens with  _ ki _ reserves larger than any human could reasonably attain, but there is very little that is  _ delicate _ about it, none of the precise, minute  _ ki _ manipulation that allows for masters of certain  _ ki _ styles to perform acts that would-to anyone who is not a martial  _ ki _ artist or a magic user- appear to be very much like magic, manipulating the elements and forming illusions according to the user’s whims. 

The closest things to precision in any Turtle variant style are Krillin’s Destructo Disk, which is the most focused attack anyone Gohan knows can create, and even then it’s not incredibly accurate, Yamcha’s Spirit Ball, which is-yeah, that one’s pretty cool actually, Gohan has no complaints, and Father’s Instant Transmission, which doesn’t even count because it’s an Alien technique and a cheat, and Gohan is like. Eighty seven percent sure Father only figured it out because of something in the atmosphere of Yardrat, because  _ really,  _ the mechanics of the technique are  _ fascinating _ and finicky, and Gohan loves his father, but for all that Goku has frankly prodigious  _ ki  _ control for a Saiyan his control is still. Abysmal compared to what even a relatively untrained human could theoretically do. Which is fine, because being able to blow up the planet trumps whatever (awesome) acts of  _ ki  _ manipulations master of precision based styles can do, at least in their particular clan of fighters, and power styles and precision styles are normally incompatible for a reason, and being half-Saiyan Gohan probably couldn’t do precision regardless, but he can admire the delicacy of precision based techniques. 

Anyway, his point is- the weird ninja  _ ki _ -less men are definitely  _ ki _ users, trained in an  _ unknown _ style that apparently hasn’t died out like so many others, which is objectively cool and all, but it’s still  _ creepy _ , especially with the way they hide all their mundane traces as well. Of course there’s a new (old? Probably old) martial  _ ki  _ art being practiced by the …  _ servant ninjas?? _ In Shenzhou, which means that of course Shenzhou’s going to be  _ even weirder  _ than he thought, and Father’s going to get into a fight within a day and totally blow their paper-card cover.

Behind him, Gohan is dimly aware of Father leaning over with an exaggerated whisper.

“Oh wow, look at ‘em go! I di'ent even notice they were there, who knew people could still do that.” The urge to scream only intensified at Father’s statement-he can practically feel the bloodlust  _ rising _ in the air, and Gohan valiantly attempted to keep a Straight Face. He Did Not stuff his fist into his mouth to muffle the Noise he Was Not making, even though he was  _ dying _ . 

Mother is astoundingly unruffled by the Men Who Appeared out of Nowhere, instead frowning as she watches Miss Mei retreat on a palanquin. It takes a moment for Mother to respond, startling slightly.

“Oh-what? Oh yes, they’re part of the honor guard. Remnants from an older time really, but they come in handy when a member of the imperial family has to travel to isolated places and, of course, with the occasional assassinations. Although,” she remarks mildly, “I am a bit surprised even  _ ya _ didn’t notice, Goku.” 

So they  _ were  _ basically Weird Ninja Servant  _ ki  _ users. That also did murder. That was a Thing that happened, apparently. Somehow, Royalty was even Weirder than he’d thought. Galaxies, that was...Spectacular.


	4. The Embassy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan's back to his old tricks. Meanwhile, at the Embassy, Goku gets a makeover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In what is a first for me, a chapter update in a couple of days! Additionally, thanks for the comments and kudos! I'm. Terrible at responding, honestly but they are very much appreciated <3

Gohan frowned down at his textbook, address burning a hole in his pocket. Mother had told him to go to school as he normally would, and meet up at “The Embassy” Immediately after he finished. Currently, Gohan had half an hour before the final bell rang, and Dread was pooling in his stomach. It was taking all of his effort to pretend to concentrate in class and-more importantly-Not Fidget and accidentally cause Another Mysterious Earthquake. It was a miracle he’d made it through the day, and even  _ Sharpener _ was giving him weird looks.  _ Sharpener _ . And, yeah, okay Sharpener wasn’t Terrible, and he Still only made fun of Gohan for Liking to Study and Actually Wearing the Uniform even though he’d been at the Tournament and had, unfortunately, Seen more than Gohan would have Liked, but it was  _ the principle  _ of the thing. 

It had been torture avoiding Videl, because apparently she had Gohan-is-being-Shifty senses that she abused mercilessly. Guilt pooled in his stomach as he ducked his head low, avoiding her piercing gaze. Maybe skipping out of Saiyaman duties this morning  _ and  _ avoiding lunch was, how does one say,  _ suspicious _ , but it's not like he could have pretended everything was hunky-dory and he  _ really  _ doesn't want to think about Royalty any more than he has to.

Unfortunately for Gohan, Videl is also incurably nosy, and as stubborn as a mule, and  _ very,  _ very good at backing Gohan into corners. Which means, of course, that Gohan has  _ just _ barely managed to skulk out of school grounds unnoticed when Videl drops down in front of him, glaring all the while.

All-Vicious Mirizka, he hadn't even had a chance to teach her how to  _ sense ki  _ yet,  _ specifically _ so he could keep his patented Run Away as Fast as You Can technique, why did she have to be so  _ brilliant.  _

"So." Gohan wilts, flinching at her steely tone.  _ That's _ Videl's I-Know-You're-Saiyaman voice, whhyyy did he think avoiding her was the smart move again, he got outwitted by Videl back when they were little more than Strangers and now she's Wise to his tricks. 

"I barely saw you at  _ all  _ today, Gohan Son. What the  _ fuck _ is up?" Wincing, Gohan focuses his gaze on a  _ fascinating _ crack in the sidewalk.

"Maa, Videl, you were never so foul mouthed back when-" Gohan slides his gaze around their surroundings dramatically, before dropping his voice to a stage whisper, "-you were accusing me of being You-Know-Who." It's. A polite fiction at best, half of Satan City probably knows his identity at this point, but Kai-damn it this was the hill he'd die on. 

It... was also a clumsy attempt at deflection, and one that's clearly not passing muster, judging by Videl’s supremely Unimpressed look, and Gohan scrunches his shoulders in a futile attempt to ignore the tension.

Videl scowls even harder, thrusting a hand in the air in a very Stabby motion. “ _ First, _ I didn’t know you from Adam back then, and suspicious weirdo or not, I wasn’t gonna verbally assault a stranger-” but of course, she’ll verbally assault a  _ friend _ , that’s so  _ typical  _ of everyone he knows, “and  _ second,  _ don’t think I don’t see you trying to deflect! You’re a shit liar and you  _ know it _ .” 

Gohan deflates, hand loosening from his bag to scratch reflexively at his neck. “Ah, well. It’s just-ugh, it’s  _ complicated  _ and it  _ sucks,  _ and just thinking about it’s going to give me hives,” he mutters. Videl is strangely quiet at that, and when he dares to glance at her face instead of the floor, there’s an awfully pensive look on her face. Something very near concern is furrowing her brows, which successfully manages to make Gohan feel Worse than any amount of shouting would. 

There’s quiet, for a few moments, before Videl speaks up again, strangely halting. “Listen, Gohan. If-if it’s something you...you  _ really  _ don’t wanna talk about...then I’ll drop it. It’s just-” Videl sighs, blue eyes cloudy, “-you haven’t been  _ this  _ sketchy since you started school, and...you got me-you got  _ us,  _ I mean- worried. That  _ is  _ what friends are for after all, y’know.” Immediately, an equal mix of gratitude and guilt rush through Gohan. On one hand, it’s... _ nice,  _ having friends who care enough to worry and are his own age and as close to his own species as he’s probably ever going to get, but on the other, coming from  _ Videl _ , this is practically the equivalent of someone breaking down crying in front of him and it Sucks. 

He stares down intently at the floor. He-he  _ really, really, really _ doesn’t want to think about Current Events right now, least of all because there’s a non zero chance he’ll finally break down if he thinks about it too hard, but he hadn’t meant to get his  _ friends _ worried about  _ him _ at all, either, and the guilt and anxiety are making him faintly sick to his stomach. Normally, emotional issues were the type of thing he’d bring up to Piccolo and Dende when he visited the Lookout, who were more receptive than Vegeta or Father but more objective than everyone else, but he hadn’t been willing to risk a visit this morning and probably wasn’t even going to be able to visit for  _ ages _ because going off flying into the sky was the definition of Suspicious, and Bulma  _ had  _ managed to wrangle the Namekians phones but it wasn’t the sort of thing that he could just  _ text  _ about, especially not when Piccolo was almost as bad with phones as Father was, and only ever had it charged around half the time. Videl was- she wasn’t great with emotions either, and she lacked the quiet gravitas Piccolo had, but she was still a  _ friend _ , one willing to put up with all his various idiosyncrasies, and most mind boggling of all, earnestly, honestly kind of  _ worried _ about him. She was also rich like Bulma, and thanks to Mr. Satan probably at least a little bit used to Rich People Politics, which was kind of related to Royalty Politics, and also wasn’t basically his aunt so she- might actually be a logical person to talk to?

He didn’t look up as he opened his mouth hesitantly, steeling himself to  _ just get on with it, _ and spoke. “Uh, it’s kind of a long story? I’m probably not the best person to explain it to you, ‘cause honestly I barely get it myself, but uhhh myauntcametovisitanditturnsshesextrarealroyaltyandnowIhavetogoberoyaltyandshesmeansand-” Gohan is cut off by Videl goggling at him as she waves her hand in the air placatingly.

“Jesus Christ, it’s fine, it’s chill, just slow down a bit, yeah? I already said I wasn’t gonna push, you can relax.” Even with the sick swell in his gut, Gohan can’t help but snort. He’s  _ terrible _ at relaxing, and Videl’s only a little bit better, and they  _ both  _ know it.

Scrubbing at his face, Gohan sighs, again, whooshing air out in a deliberately long moment. “Okay. Okay, I got this, I can do this.” He folds his hand together in a movement he copied from Mother, brow furrowing. “So. You know how Grandpa’s technically royalty, even though it literally never comes up?” At her nod, he continues. “So. It turns out that ‘cause he’s royalty, he, uhhh,  _ married _ royalty, as ...one does I guess? And it turns out my grandmother didn’t die, they just got divorced because of politics. Or something like that anyway, no one went into detail. And, uh, it turns out Grandmother had  _ more  _ kids, who are Proper Royalty, and one of ‘em showed up yesterday at my house -and she’s  _ mean  _ too, everyone who’s proper Royalty is  _ so mean _ Videl-and, uh, apparently my...great grandfather-who was apparently the  _ Emperor _ of  _ Shenzhou,  _ which seriously, what the heck?-he  _ died,  _ which sucks I guess, and more importantly he-for some reason?-didn’t name an heir, which apparently a Big Vtrching Deal, and now the stars systems worth of Important Royalty in Shenzhou are fighting about it? And Miss Mei mentioned something about an ‘Imperial Trial’, whatever  _ that  _ is, which-I’m still  _ super _ confused but-as far as I can tell it means that we? Have to go and participate? To show, I don’t know, how well prepared our ‘branch’ is to inherit the throne or whatever, and Miss Mei haaates Father and me and Goten, and we gotta get a crash course in politics or something to be ‘suitable royal scions’ in three  _ weeks _ , before we have to  _ leave the country for the whatever Trial  _ and we have to uhhhhhhh-” Gohan snaps his mouth shut in the middle of his (well deserved) rant, because they’re  _ still _ standing _ right outside  _ of Orange Star High School, where students are still milling about, and Gohan had maybe-sort of started raising his voice halfway through because he was definitely _ just _ about shouting at the end, and  _ maybe  _ people Knew he was Weird, and at least  _ strongly suspected _ that he was not All Human, but they didn’t know the  _ specifics,  _ and Gohan would like to  _ keep _ it that way, thank you very much. “Well, you know, we gotta be  _ proper _ about everything, and  _ respectable, _ so we don’t ‘shame the family’, which is going to be  _ terrible  _ ‘cause,  _ yknow _ , we grew up on a mountain in the middle of nowhere, k-god knows we’re not  _ built  _ for it, and she didn’t even give us the common decency of letting us stay home until we leave ‘cause it’s ‘too far’, so I  _ guess _ I have to live at the Shenzhou Embassy for now?? And I don’t really want to go there.” The wind is more or less out of his sails by the time he finishes, and the last sentence was mumbled as a sulky afterthought, but-somehow- he  _ finally  _ managed to talk about it a little to someone else. His chest is heaving in-not exertion, considering he can scream himself hoarse without stopping for breath, but presumably a psychosomatic impression of it, and the churning anxiety isn’t  _ gone _ , but the pressing edge of nausea has lifted, and he doesn’t even want to cry a little bit. 

For her part, Videl seems appropriately gobsmacked, which is to say that her face is screwed up like she sucked on a lemon. One hand reaches out to tug on her short locks as she ponders. “Huh. That’s- well, that  _ sucks. _ You gotta leave the  _ country? _ ” Ah Videl, wonderfully brusque as always. 

In response, Gohan nods miserably. They’re both well aware that, technically, distance isn’t exactly an obstacle, and also aware that, practically, he has to act like it is. 

“Tch. That’s great. Rich people are the worst, too, and that's when they’re just regular haughty.” See? This is why he likes Videl, she’s got no sense of reverence.

“I know, right? I’m going to die, Videl.” The glint in her eyes is fond, but it doesn’t prevent her from whacking him in the arm with a snort.

“Oh please, you big baby,” Videl teases. “You love acting dramatic already, so you’re basically halfway there.”

Dramatic?? Gohan’s not  _ dramatic _ , this is  _ slander.  _ It’s not his fault he was raised in a series of life-or-death battles that gave him a skewed sense of what counts as normal, so really, he’s as well adjusted as he can possibly be. 

The look on Videl’s face is exaggeratedly disbelieving, which is really Very Rude of her, and Gohan quirks his lips, unbidden. Videl really is amazing when she’s not trying to dissect his every move. Some of the tension has finally left his shoulders during their rote bickering, and he can almost pretend his life isn’t in Shambles.

Ye Zhong resisted the urge to wince at the sight of the wayward Jiang princess and her apparent family. He had been brought, as Princess Mei’s favored stylist, to ensure that the wayward Jiang Princess and her mysterious family looked the part of royalty, and her royal highness had told him to expect the worst, but he nonetheless found himself gobsmacked by the dreadfully common clothing they wore.

Princess Qi was, admittedly, wearing Shenzhouan clothing, but the newfangled  _ qipao _ she wore was obviously worn, if well cared for, and paired with the equally worn trousers and shawl, she could almost be mistaken for a common farmer, a fact not helped by the freckles that marred her previously jade-like complexion, an obvious mark of hours spent exposed to the sun’s beating rays. She was still a beauty under it all-even decades of playing commoner couldn’t erase the peerless Jiang features- but the pitiful sight still made Ye Zhong twitch in anxiety.

Still, for all that she had obviously done her best to play commoner, it wouldn’t take all that much effort to make Princess Qi appear to be every inch the royalty she was. The same...could not be said for her husband and son.

After her late arrival the previous night, Mei had informed the most trusted members of the household with the information that Princess Qi’s husband was some rare kind of shapeshifting beast with the ability to temporarily assume a pseudo-human form, and that the newest scions of the Jiang dynasty were half-human mongrels as a result, an unfortunate reality that absolutely could not be spread to anyone but Jiang Daiyu’s descendents and their most loyal retainers on pain of death, but it was one thing to hear about in the abstract and very much another to see Princess Qi’s eldritch family in the flesh, pseudo-human forms or not.

The shapeshifting helped, a bit; from a distance the prince consort and the little princeling would have looked entirely unremarkable if not for the improbably spiky hair and the nauseatingly orange foreign-styled  _ gi  _ and the... _ tail _ , but they certainly wouldn’t pass muster on a close scrutinization as they were now, and once thrown into the treacherous waters of nobility there would be no  _ end _ of scrutinizing gazes. 

That said, Ye Zhong wasn’t considered to be one of the best stylists in the greater Asu region for no reason; he had clawed his way up the ranks for his uncanny ability to turn even the roughest of gems into flawless diamonds, and unlike most stylists of his caliber, he didn’t irrationally refuse to work his magic on non-humans. Princess Qi’s family would be… a challenge, certainly, but not one that Ye Zhong would allow himself to be bested by.

In front of him, Princess Mei shifted at the sight of her half-sister.

“Ye Zhong,” the princess commanded, tilting her head in the direction of the newest Prince Consort. Wordlessly, Ye Zhong bowed to her royal highness before turning to face his newest project.

Dipping into a shallow bow, Ye Zhong spoke. “Prince Consort Jiang, please follow me.” The man in question quirks a brow in surprise, half twisting to face Princess Qi. At the princess’s nod the prince consort shrugs, striding forward towards him with predatory grace. Twisting smartly on his heel, Ye Zhong walks briskly towards the previously prepared dressing room, uncomfortably aware of the prince consort following closely behind him.

There’s blissful silence for a few moments, before an accented baritone rumbles into his ear.

“Hey Ye- _ san,  _ where are we s’posed ta be goin’?” Ye Zhong does  _ not  _ startle, but it’s a close thing.

“Second Princess Jiang has ordered me to ensure that your appearance matches your station, your highness,” he says, “A ‘royal makeover’, if you will.” There’s an answering rumble, and when Ye Zhong glances at the Prince Consort out of the corner of his eye, he finds the man eyeing at his clothing curiously, dubiously picking at the orange fabric.

Upon their arrival at the dressing room, Ye Zhong motions for the prince consort to sit at the chair next to the hair-styling supplies. The man complies reluctantly, chair creaking ominously as he does. 

He stares critically at the prince consort, considering his available options. Obviously, he’s going to have to do  _ something  _ about the unruly mass of hair, impressive as it may be for its ability to blatantly defy gravity, because it is, quite frankly, utterly ridiculous. It’s long enough to style, at least, and he can finagle strands to disguise the pointed tips of the ears. The sideburns aren’t...terribly horrible, Ye Zhong thinks. They’re not in style, but with a good bit of trimming they’ll frame his square jaw flatteringly, and are distracting enough to draw attention from...whatever’s wrong with the planes of his face. Similarly, the eyebrows-while unbearably bushy-do a fair job at drawing attention from uncannily dark pupil-less eyes. The teeth are...unfortunate, but there’s not much he can do there unless he’s willing to file them down by hand. Which might be inevitable, given that the prince consort’s resting expression seems to be an entirely too revealing grin, but it’s such a drastic endeavor that it should preferably remain a last-ditch effort. Ye Zhong doesn’t know the true appearance of the prince consort, and he’s not especially interested in seeing it, but overall his current appearance is… workable. If Ye Zhong can obfuscate the subtle  _ offness _ , and he  _ knows _ he’s more than capable, then the prince consort will cut a striking figure, if perhaps not the  _ most  _ conventionally attractive one.

Tsking lightly at the thought, Ye Zhong grabs a brush and begins the arduous task of untangling the prince consort’s wild mane. Or well, he  _ tries _ to do so, at which point it becomes obvious that that is...not hair. It certainly  _ looks _ enough like hair, but the texture is all…  _ wrong _ . The strands are much thicker around than hair follicles would be, for one, and terribly bristle-like. They’re also covered by a velveteen coating that catches on his fingers when he moves his hand the wrong way, and is almost certainly the reason Ye Zhong hadn’t noticed how wide the individual not-hair strands are.

Tentatively, he picks at an individual strand, separating it from its fellows. He pushes down on the strand. It bends. He releases his grip. It springs back immediately. He douses the prince consort’s head with a liberal application of water. The spikes sag slightly, but remain otherwise unchanged. His eye twitches. This is certainly. Less than ideal. One of the prince consort’s hands is tapping out an unsteady rhythm on an armrest; Ye Zhong is pointedly ignoring the minute cracks spreading across the surface.

“Prince Consort Jiang,” Ye Zhong begins carefully, “What do you normally use to manage your... _ hair _ ?” The man peers up at him in confusion.

“I wash it?” Well yes, Ye Zhong would rather hope he  _ does _ .

“Well, yes, but do you do anything  _ else? _ Any particular conditioner, a specific brush you use, a particular type of hair gel?” The prince consort scratches at his nose sheepishly, ever-present grin turning lopsided.

“Not really, no. Chich’ll brush it sometimes, but I don’ really see the point ‘cause it looks the same brushed or na’.” Heavens help him, Ye Zhong felt positively  _ faint.  _ Weird not-hair or not, the absolute lack of care was  _ appalling _ . Barely managing to restrain a pained grimace, Ye Zhong rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the wide toothed comb, determination burning in his eyes. So he needed to work miracles. That was fine, that was how he’d built his reputation. Common ruffian or no, by the time Ye Zhong was done with him the prince consort  _ would _ look respectable, even if it killed him.

In retrospect, the fact that the Satan mansion and the embassy were literal neighbors should have been obvious, given that North Satan  _ was _ the most luxurious borough in the capital, all sprawling buildings and acres of lawn, but Gohan hadn’t quite connected the dots that the elegant mansion directly across from Videl’s house matched the address in his pocket until he was standing directly in front of the-rather Imposing- gate. He had the distinct sense that Videl was Laughing at him, even though she’d ditched him for Justice Purposes while he looked on Longingly, because she was nice like that. 

Stymied, Gohan stared intently at the very much closed entrance, then at the mansion what seemed to be acres into the distance. He could fly over the gate, obviously, if flying were not currently on the list of things Gohan did not dare Attempt because Spies, apparently, and Gohan now Knew that having a twenty foot vertical jump was Not Normal. He could… climb it, maybe? He was Very Tall, and the gate was only ten feet, so it was probably plausible. Yeah. That could work, he’d seen  _ Erasa _ clamber over the school fence when she ditched once. Reasonably Fit Normal teenagers were Totally Capable of Climbing. 

Nodding his head in determination, Gohan proceeds to scramble over the gate, reaching up as high as he can and pulling himself upwards to reach the top with his other hand, at which point he heaves himself up into a handstand before tumbling safely onto the grass. Gohan picks himself up and dusts imaginary dust off his pants, grinning in satisfaction at his Normal Teenage Entrance as he cuts across the lawn. Back at the gate, a doorbell gleams in the afternoon sunlight, completely unnoticed by Gohan during the entirety of his endeavor.

His temporary high from his success lasts right up until alarms start blaring approximately ten seconds after his entry, at which point Gohan freezes comically, balancing precariously with one foot in the air. He whips his head around, scanning frantically for any traces of hostility in the vicinity. Nothing. All he can see is the fancy driveway, the grass, and the mansion. There’s absolutely Nothing Threatening he can detect with any of his senses, whhyyy are alarms going off??

There’s a vaguely familiar muffled pop, and clods of dirt spray into the air. Gohan goggles. That was a  _ bullet _ -he would know, he’s been shot at So Much since becoming Saiyaman. He’s being  _ shot at? _ That is Not Cool. Bullets are Dangerous, he knows, and he didn’t even  _ do  _ anything, even if Gohan is fairly Sure that that was a deliberate Warning Shot. What to do, what to do. It’s fine, this is fine, the worst that can happen is he gets shot at and has to awkwardly explain why he’s Not bleeding. Miss Mei already knows...some of the stuff, he can pass off bullet proof skin as a Totally Earthling Thing. Probably. Maybe. 

Okay, you know what? He just has to avoid getting shot, no big. He can catch bullets in his hands. No, wait-no catching bullets, that would be Worse than Being Bullet Proof, actually. Okay, think, Gohan,  _ think. _ Mysterious shooter doesn’t seem to want to  _ kill  _ him, exactly, so maybe if he just...books it? He’ll be fine. Hopefully? It would help if he knew Why they were Shooting at him, all he did was come to the embassy like he Was Told. Wait. Hmmmmmm. Gohan turned his head back, staring at the gates to the embassy. They gleamed mockingly in the sunlight. 

Oh galaxies, he was an  _ idiot.  _ Why couldn’t he ever use his brain when it would actually be  _ useful _ . Maybe his entrance had been a Normal Teenager thing to Do but maybe. Just maybe. It might have been  _ technically _ a little bit illegal to jump over the gate like that, strictly speaking, even if he was Supposed to be here. And technically. Embassies were not autonomous or whatever, but Important and Complicated, so it  _ might  _ be...probable that it might have...some sort of alarm system installed. 

Scrubbing his hands through his hair frantically, Gohan swivels his head frantically from the gate to the embassy and back again. Okay. He’s. Pretty much smack dab in the middle, which means he’s Screwed whatever he does, except if he goes back he has to deal with Miss Mei  _ and  _ the alarm system/Mysterious Shooter whatever. So. Booking it to the Embassy it is. Easy enough. People say to zig-zag with bullets, right? Yeah. Zig-zag sprint-jog it is.

Gohan transitions from awkwardly flailing to sprinting-ish forward in a single, bounding movement. The alarm is grating shrilly against his ears, painful and annoying, and the acrid snap of gunpowder burns sharply at his nose, but the wind is rustling through his hair and against himself, some part of Gohan is enjoying the thrill. Maybe this is why Normal People like rollercoasters, he thinks, a manufactured sense of danger that gets the adrenaline pumping (well, technically anybody else would be in Real Danger, but he’s fine, so). It’s not too different from the excitement he feels sometimes when he’s Saiyaman, on the rare occasion that he Doesn’t have to Worry about Civilians being in Trouble. 

There’s just the slightest  _ hint _ of his lips upturning as he approaches the fancy porch-thing edge of the embassy. He’s  _ maybe  _ two steps from being in the clear when a solid weight  _ slams  _ down on top of his back, making him stumble, and Gohan  _ snaps _ to attention, world slowing to a crawl. It doesn’t exactly  _ hurt  _ or anything, but there’s just  _ enough _ of a familiar ache to the calculated strike that means the move was  _ ki _ enhanced, except Gohan had had exactly Zero forewarning. Kai-damn  _ ninjas,  _ honestly. The pressure’s  _ still _ on his back, and Gohan maybe panics a little, tilting his head back to look at the unexpected interloper. The (maybe) ninja is crouching flat footed on his back, which is… troublesome. 

Biting his lip, Gohan runs through some quick mental calculations. If he had to guess, the person is...maybe six feet? Not overly bulky but clearly well built; roughly two hundred pounds if Gohan had to guess. Gohan himself is six foot three and broad shouldered, but he’s finally lost enough of the power up muscle mass from the Tournament that he’s merely well-built instead of hulking, and the baggy clothing he figures makes him look even leaner. A sudden  _ ki  _ enhanced weight placed firmly on his center of gravity (or well, near enough-it’s where Gohan estimates it would be if he were only human, anyway), roughly equal in apparent mass (again-not really, even slacking off on training he’s at least twice the weight a human his height and age  _ should  _ be)-that’s a recipe for getting someone on the ground  _ fast _ if Gohan ever saw one. 

Oh Andromeda, he  _ hopes _ he hasn’t spent  _ too  _ long Not Falling. Relaxing against the weight, Gohan lets gravity work, and Resists the urge to catch himself too obviously, hitting the ground with a thud. Maybe too big of a thud, actually. Oops.

After enough time has passed that Gohan thinks a Regular Person would get over the shock, he tilts his face upward, peering up with suitably wide eyes at the other martial artist, who has vacated from his back and is currently standing over him with a look of intense disapproval that softens in surprise as they lock eyes.

Grimacing at the taste of dirt in his mouth, Gohan waves sheepishly. “Uh, hi?” There’s a long suffering look on the stranger’s face as he stares down at him, before the older man reaches out with surprising speed to haul Gohan to his feet. Biting down hastily on a yelp, Gohan complies. It’s official; he  _ hates  _ the Not-Ninjas. Hiding their  _ ki _ and moving silently are bad enough, but going so far as to block out their scents?? It’s Totally Overkill, Gohan thinks in resentment. How the Heck is he supposed to read  _anyone's_ movements like this, when all he can do is  _ see? _ He can process things faster than most humans, sure, but everything is so  _ fuzzy _ he gets a headache if that’s _ all  _ he uses.

“Son Gohan, I presume,” the stranger intones dryly. Gohan chuckles awkwardly.

“Yep, that’s-that’s me. Hi. Again. Nice to… meet you, I guess?” The man bows shallowly, which is a trip after being shoved to the ground not two minutes before. Even if. Gohan had maybe broken in, just a little.

“I am Zhao De, highness, the head cultivator under Second Princess Jiang.”  _ Cultivator _ ? Is that what they call  _ ki _ artists in Shenzhou? The man continues, voice tinging in what Gohan  _ swears _ is Amusement, “In the future, I would sincerely implore that you ring the doorbell when returning home unaccompanied.” Gohan winces, scratching at his neck before doing a double take. Door...bell? He’d done  _ All That _ , and there’d been  _ a doorbell? _

“There  _ was _ ?” Gohan blurts out. “Where?”

Zhao-san stares at Gohan blankly. “Next to the gate. It is… not hidden.” He blanches. Well. So much for being a ‘genius’.

The slight rasp of wood against stone interrupts his musings, and Gohan swivels his head toward the mansion as the door opens near-soundlessly. Miss Mei is standing in the opening, lips pursed in Disapproval as she stares him down. 

Gohan pales as he realizes how it looks. The alarm, still going off, the half-destroyed lawn, Gohan himself still being held half-upright like a naughty child by the blank faced Zhao De (who really is impressively strong-Gohan had been distracted earlier, but the man hadn’t wavered  _ at all _ picking him up, and even now his grip is surprisingly loose against his arm).

Sweat-dropping as he accepts his fate, Gohan spreads his arms sheepishly.

“...  _ Surprise _ ?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RE: Gohan's 'swearing'. Most of the space-based substitutes are a personal affectation because...he's a nerd. The rest are Actual Swears he picked up over time, mostly from Vegeta. Also! No aesthetic glasses in this house, Gohan gets shitty eyesight for realsies.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I have written this? Probably not. Am I? Yes. Or: If no-one is going to fulfill my incredibly nichi need for DBZ fanfiction then fine, I'll do it myself.


End file.
